Classified (A Transformers Bayverse FanFiction)
by RgRacingGirl
Summary: Caught in a war she was never meant to be in. Normal life - was that truly so hard to find? Solitude - is that really possible in her situation? Maybe it isn't so easy, whether it be babysitting for a little cousin or trying to peacefully sing a cover to a song. Will this be the carefree life she wanted? Or will the stress build up and break her down?
1. Chapter 1

Cold hearted, looking for answers. Those two qualities put together? Never a good outcome.

My footsteps down the hall were the only noises I heard that morning, besides the snoring of my puppy. It didn't worry me too badly. Maybe Mom and Dad were just out too long and got a hotel. Worrying about them won't make them come back any quicker.

"Brandi, come here!" I called as I got out her little bowl. Her puppy food was mushy and canned. The smell was disgusting, but she seemed to enjoy it.

The food plopped out of the metal can and into her light blue bowl. The sound alone almost made me gag. Dogs enjoy this stuff? Props to them. I'd rather die than eat that crud.

As soon as I had called her name, she stumbled over to me and attempted to jump up my body. Before she could succeed, I bent down and placed her bowl on the floor. "There you go, baby girl."

She began gleefully scarfing down the foul smelling food. A smile reached my face as I rubbed her ears and patted her head. I sat down at the counter with some vanilla creamer-drowned coffee. I flipped through the script pages as I sipped my breakfast drink. A few minutes later, my coffee was no longer in my cup. My stomach was filled with the creamy drink instead. I glanced at my watch.

It was already seven-fifteen. Already late for practice.

Crap.

Quickly, I pulled a shirt over my head. My fingers felt around my dresser drawer for a belt I could wear. Anything. I found what I was looking for and quickly shoved the belt through my purple jean belt loops. Before I knew it, I had gotten the rest of the way ready and was in my car.

Too bad the car didn't start.

I groaned and kicked the dashboard. The key inside my ignition was jammed from how hard I had forced it inside. Next time I get a car, I'm getting one that _wasn't _made thirty years ago. Maybe I'll get better quality.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. With a sigh of frustration, I took my phone out and looked at it. A text from Whitney.

_'Where are you? Practice started early!'_

Car problems. That's why I'm not there. _Totally _not because I woke up a bit late. Frantically, I replied to her message and grabbed my school bag. My fat butt needs the exercise anyway. Walking to school. Might be fun.

About ten minutes later, I made it to the front doors of the school. My feet hurt - _bad day to wear my flats _- and my stomach was practically screaming for food. It wasn't like I could do anything about either of them.

I knocked on the choir room doors, and they quickly swung open. I caught a glimpse of bright red hair in the window of the door. Whitney.

_"Where were you?"_ Whitney asked in a hushed voice, grabbing my wrist and yanking me into the room. It wasn't an empty, quiet room. Quite the opposite.

The musical practice room was just the high school choir room. It was large, and at the moment held about thirty kids, all here for early morning practice. All of the students were in their friend groups, waiting for practice to start officially.

Before I could reply, the musical director clapped his hands. "Alright! We needs the lead roles to the front, in scene three position!"

Everybody quickly scrambled around the room. Whitney pushed me up to the front, and I hastily found my position on the tape. Soon enough, everybody was in their places, and Scene Three Run-Through began. Starting with me.

School that day started out slow. Mid-Term finals were beginning next week. All the teachers were doing their best to prepare us, meaning no real work or homework. Any normal student would be relieved, but all the work makes the days pass faster. No work? Slow days.

First and second period were both English. I'm in the year advanced class, so we have even less work on a normal basis. With Mid-Terms coming up, it is as close to a free period as we get. Myentire class was either reading or on their phones all class.

Me? I was reading over my scripts, trying to memorize them. _Trying._ Memorizing scripts never was my specialty, but I always end up on the good side. Or something. We'll see what happens.

Twenty minutes into second period English, the teacher left the room. One of the boys in my class, Joey, jumped up and flipped his desk.

"She's gone! She's gone!" he yelled with a grin. Several other boys started snickered, while the girls rolled their eyes. Everybody refused to get involved.

Except for me, of course.

Gently, I slid the script back into my folder. I stood up and walked over to Joey. "Stop yelling."

He stuck his tongue out at me. "No way, Jess. I'll do what I want." Just to prove his point, he flipped me off. His face looked proud.

Like the other girls, I rolled my eyes and went back to my seat. I'd rather not get involved if he gets in trouble. That'll be his problem.

Instead of going back to my script, I looked around the room silently. The room had low ceilings, so all the tall guys had issues. The room always felt cramped and stuffy. This day was no different. Joey had his desk flipped, and his work papers were scattered all over the floor. He was _s_o going to be in trouble with Mrs. Adams, the dean.

A knock on the door made the room go completely silent. Nobody got up, so I ended up being the one to open the door. I was surprised at what I saw. It was a police officer, dressed in full uniform. His badge made me think he was a sheriff.

"Hi, can I help you?" I asked, tilting my head to look up at him. He was tall. Or maybe I'm just short.

The officer nodded, shifting his utility belt. Whatever its called, the belt that held his officer equipment. "Yes. Is a Miss Jessica Lennox here?"

"Yes, that's me," I smiled. I did nothing wrong, as far as I know. No need to worry.

Right?

"I'm going to need to take you to the police station. I'll explain on the way."

Behind me, I could imagine all my classmates going _ohhhh_. Like I was in trouble.

I only nodded. No problem. I'm not in trouble. "Okay."

He gave me a sad smile, patting my shoulder. "Bring your things, alright?"

Am I not coming back?

I did as I was told, and walked back to the officer. After giving him a short nod, he gestured for me to follow him out. I did.

What is going on?


	2. Chapter 2

On the ride there, I learned a few things. The officer's name was Jay, and he isn't such a big fan of talking. It was very obvious that he tried his best to avoid talking to me.

Hm. I'm pretty sure I showered this morning, so it's not that I smell bad. Maybe I just have one of those faces, and I look like his ex girlfriend. Maybe. Does he even have an ex-girlfriend? Man, my thoughts are weird.

The waiting room at the police station was pretty quiet. There was a man in the front, typing at a desktop computer. He dropped a pen, and I could hear it. That was how quiet it was. Not exactly an unwelcomed silence. It was a good break from what I heard all day at school. I welcomed the silence.

I shifted quietly in my seat. It's been five minutes since I got here. Are they ever going to tell me what the heck is going on?

Another five minutes pass by, and all I can hear is talking in one of the back rooms. The light colored wooden door had a window in the middle of it, so I could see who was in there. It was the Sheriff and Officer Jay. They both were using their hands to talk. I couldn't pick out exactly what they were saying, but they kept turning back to look at the door. When they saw I was looking at them, they would quickly turn back.

The man in the front, the secretary, cleared his throat. "Are you Jessica Lennox?" He looked over at me. He had dark black hair, olive skin, and pretty green eyes. What is up with all the semi-attractive police officers?

With a small smile, I nodded. "Yeah, that's me. Am I in trouble?"

"No . . . " he replied softly, shaking his head. He closed his eyes and sighed. "They are going to explain in a minute."

Of course they are. He's the second person to tell me exactly that. It has to be bad, then, but they also said that I'm not in trouble. What else could it be?

My phone was vibrating up a storm in my jacket pocket. Lord knows how many messages I have, and who from. Probably some from the girls in second period English. They always did like to snoop around other peoples' business.

At the front desk, I watched the man get up and walk over to me. "Are you happy to be out of school today?" He took a seat beside me.

I shook my head. "Not really. School's not so bad, really. What's your name?"

"John Green," he chuckled. "That's different. Your perspective on school. Most kids dread school."

John, you have no idea how true that statement is. "Yeah, I know. They just don't get it. You need school, for many reasons. They're just too stubborn to understand it."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're the first kid I've met that said that you need school."

I smiled. "There's a first time for everything, right?"

John smiled back, then a little bell rang. I looked over at the room where Sheriff and Jay were, and that was the door that was opened. Officer Jay walked towards us, looking a bit glum.

Officer Jay sat down on my other side, tilting his head to look at me. "Hey, Jess. Mind if I call you Jess?"

Shrugging, I replied, "I don't mind, but that's my mom's name."

He sighed, messing with his hands in his lap a little. "Okay, Jess. . . About your parents. . ."

Oh, no. . . His tone worried me. My heart rate sped up slightly, and I looked at him with a worried expression.

"I'm so sorry, Jessica," he said softly, wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Your parents were found in an alley. It was too late. They're gone."

It was like my whole world stopped. My parents? Gone? Does that mean . . Dead? Oh,no. . No no no . . "They can't be," I whispered.

"I'm so sorry-"

My head spun as I tried to get my mind wrapped around the idea. How could they be gone? Why? Who? An orphan at age sixteen. What sort of story is that?

John at my other side looked like he had known the whole time. He didn't tell me before this. I guess it was just protocol that they had to have an officer tell me. It didn't make it hurt any less.

The two guys showered me with apologies, but they didn't mean much. I knew I was being a bit cold about it, but at least I'm trying to be realistic. I held back all my tears. No way was I going to cry in front of them.

I inhaled a shaky breath, then looked at Officer Jay. "Where am I going to live?" I asked softly. My eyes felt heavy, glazed over. I blinked hard to get the tears to go away.

He bit his lip. "Do you have any family?"

I paused. Family. Mom was an only child. Dad had. . . "Yeah, I do. An uncle." I quickly gave Jay my uncle's number. Praying that he would be home and get the call.

The funeral was held a few days later. They had the same friends, mostly, and I knew everybody who came. A total of about two hundred people came and went, paying their respects to my parents and telling me how sorry they were.

Hearing the same two words, "I'm sorry", gets very old very fast. I know they mean well, but I hear it enough from everybody. One person not saying it won't ruin my life. Maybe it's just their way of showing me that they care.

Brandi was there, in the funeral home, jumping up every single person that walked in the door. She barked away happily, not a care in the world. It didn't even occur to her that there was a very sad reason we were there. She only knew that there are sad people in this place, and needed cheering up with many many doggie kisses. I'll admit, it made me laugh a few times.

Two hours passed. Most of the people were now leaving, done paying their respects to my parents and saying sorry to me. If I got a dollar every time I heard apologies, I'd have enough money to buy a car that actually works correctly.

The oversized puppy was exhausted from all that greet-and-licking she did. She was curled up in the corner, her tail wrapped around her body to be comfortable. I walked over to her and sat down beside her.

"Hey, baby girl." I ran my hand along her back, kissing her head. "Don't get too comfy. Uncle Will is suppose to be coming soon to pick us up." He was actually half an hour late. I wonder what's keeping him. I hope he didn't forget.

Brandi lifted her head up and looked at me. Her mouth opened, and she yawned loudly, a soft squeaking noise coming as the yawn ended.

I laughed softly. "Aw, Brandi Sue. . That was cute."

She barked happily, plopping her head into my lap. I know a lot of people think this, but what would she say if she could talk? Probably something about me being too loud and obnoxious. Hey, at least I try.

Somebody knocked on the door. I looked up to see who it was. "Who is it?" The darn person didn't think to open the door.

The doorknob twisted, and the person pushed the door open. It was- "Hey, Jess. Sorry I was late, I had a little trouble back at home with Annabelle and Sarah."

"Aw, what happened?" I asked. My back slid up the wall, to easily stand up without much work. I'm lazy. Embrace the lazyiness.

Uncle Will shrugged. "Anna didn't want me to leave. She started crying." He jabbed his thumb towards the door. "You want to go get your stuff from the house, right?"

Brandi barked at him before darting right up to him. She jumped up his legs and licked happily at his face. As I tried to stifle my laughs, Uncle Will made a disgusted face before bursting into laughter.

Oh, right. He asked a question. "Yeah, we need to go get my things." What a way to lighten the mood at a funeral home. Thanks, Brandi.


	3. Chapter 3

Never been too keen on long car rides. With a little puppy in the back seat, it makes the entire thing a lot less appealing. Even Uncle Will got annoyed with all the noise. The sound of Brandi whining was giving me a headache.

"Maybe we should stop at that gas station and let her out. . . ?" I suggested warily. Uncle Will looks like he is getting fed up with Brandi and her wining. I'll admit, I am as well, but he has a short fuse. Shorter fuse than mine, anyway.

He tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel. "Yeah, but that's the last stop we can make if we want to be back h- by eight."

He cut himself off. He was about to say 'home'. Was it my home now, too? It surely won't feel like home at first. A little farm in the rural parts of Washington DC. Not many animals, but now we are just adding a dog to the collection. Brandi will be able to run around and burn off some of that energy that she's had since I got her. Who knew a little Australian Shepherd could have that much energy?

Maybe I should have read up on Australian Shepherds before I bought one. They probably say something about being very energetic.

A stop at a 24/7 Gas Station was an order, like Uncle Will and I had talked about. He parked the truck, taking up two spaces, and let Brandi and I out. Brandi was on a leash, since I knew she wouldn't hesitate to run off and try to lick somebody.

The red leash was thick, to withstand her strength and not break. Not the best thing for my hands. Every time she tugged at the leash, my palm would almost get a rug burn. It made Uncle Will laugh at me, seeing me struggle.

"Maybe you should have gotten a lap dog!"

"Oh, she _wishes_ she was a lap dog!" I replied as I yanked Brandi back. She had been trying to sniff some trashcan that happened to be five feet away from her, just out of reach because of her leash. "But then she wouldn't be able to jump up onto people and lick them."

Uncle Will laughed and nodded. "She does like to lick people. And other things."

That did not bring an appropiate image to mind. Shaking my head, I puckered my lips and whistled. "Brandi! C'mon, girl, we're going back in the truck." Well, she was.

After we shut her up in the truck, I hopped off of the foot-board and dug my hand in my pocket. I could feel some money in there, dollar bills and quarters. I didn't pull anything out, but I could guess about ten dollars total. At a simple gas station, that could buy a lot.

Fifteen or so minutes later, we were back on the road. As it turned out, I got a large iced tea and some sodium-filled packaged sweets. Simple sugars, the works.

"You're going to have to pee if you drink that too fast," Uncle Will said as he drove. Highways were not too busy, especially at this time of day.

With a snort, I nodded. "Hopefully, I'll be able to hold it. Right?"

"Hopefully."

Uncle Will wasn't the best in making conversation; that much was obvious. At least he tried, bless his heart. Without people that try, our world would be a very sad little place in the depths of this universe.

"So, what's up with all the musical stuff I had to pack in the back?" Uncle Will asked as he started off for the highways again. Since it was so early in the morning, next to nobody was on the roads yet.

"Wait, you don't know?" I asked. How could he not know? Then again, it's not like I advertise it or anything. "I write my own songs and do some covers." The 'musical stuff' he had been talking about was my electric guitar, my acoustic guitar, my keyboard, speakers, standing microphone (like the ones you see in recording studios, a bit flat and circular), and my drum set. I don't get along too well with other people, so I do all the instruments.

He laughed softly. "Do you really play all those?"

"Yes, really. I'm a newbie on the drums, though. You need to have really good sense of rythm in order to be able to play right," I said. "There was this one kid at my old school, Patrick. He tried to play the drums, but the band director told him to leave. He was just plain awful." Back when I _was_ in band. Now, I'm sticking to choir.

Uncle Will looked through his rearview mirror, then kept driving. It might have just been me, but he seemed a bit more cautious. All I could see out the side mirror was a black SUV. Maybe he's just paranoid.

"That kid doens't sound like he was very good at playing the drums," he replied slowly.

I shook my head. "He wasn't. It was kinda sad, really, but he just didn't have the knack for drums."

"And you do?"

"Probably not, but I can play well enough for it to sound good."

"That's good. . ? I guess."

He sure isn't the sweet talker that Mom used to describe him as. More like awkward nerd, except for the nerd part. He doesn't seem too nerdy. Then again, what do I know?

Sipping at my drink, I leaned my cheek against the cool glass window and looked out. Though it was mostly dark, there were street lights in some areas. With no mountains, it seemed that the land went on forever. Fields and fields of grass and a house here and there. I've never seen what Uncle Will's farm looks like, but I have a feeling it'll be right out of a storybook. All cute, white picket fence, and a nice color for the house. That's what he's described, anyway.

A sudden thought hit me. New school. New people. What would they be like?

Probably the cliche groups, with the jocks and the popular girls. The people that are rumored to do drugs, the ones that aren't rumored that do drugs. Maybe some kids that are like me. Love music and expressing themselves, but not extremely extroverted. If I'm lucky.

I'll probably end up sitting with the advanced math kids again, all doing Advanced Trig or something. Just so I won't have to sit alone.

The radio buzzed as we lost service in a certain area, under a bridge. It made that terrible screeching noise before I finally reached over and flipped it to a country station. I didn't even aim for a certain station- it just happened. Lucky for me, country is my favorite. Uncle Will didn't seem to care either which way.

My girl, Lady Antebellum. Her song, "Run to You", was playing. Instantly, a smile was on my face. This was my latest cover that I worked out the music for. The first song I planned on recording as soon as I got all settled in.

The digital clock inside the truck read "4:30". Three and a half hours until we are suppose to be back at his house. My new home. Can I even call it home? It surely won't feel like home at first. After a while, it should.

Before I knew it, my eyes began to drift closed. _Don't fight the drowsiness, Jessica. . ._ I told myself. Sleep was a good thing.

I slept the rest of the ride to the farm. When I awoke, it was only because a little midget person jumped into my lap, screaming my name.

"JESSICA!" little Annabelle hollered, wrapping her tiny arms around me as best she could. Sarah had placed her in my lap.

Now, I've never been one for kids. I don't understand them. Their minds are so one-track, only wanting what they want, and gosh darnit, they want it _now_. As you get older, you learn how to prioritize things. Or so they tell me.

"Anna, don't yell in her face. She was sleeping," Sarah chided as she leaned down. I was still in the truck, Anna in my lap. It felt crowded, even though it was a big truck..

"Mommy! She here!" Anna stuck a slightly damp palm on my cheek.

Oh, yay. Doesn't that sound fun to have on my cheek. I hope they have good facial cleansor.

Sarah pulled Annabelle off of me to let me get out. After sleeping for a few hours, in a not very comfortable truck, my back hurt. I sound old.

Sixteen years old, back problems. Aren't I just peachy?

By eight thirty, with both Uncle Will and Sarah's help, we got all of my music equipment set up in my bedroom downstairs. Concrete walls, soundproof. We'll test out how 'sound proof' they really are with my drums. You can't exactly be gentle on the drums in order to produce good sound.

I put my hands on my hips and did a slow 360 around my room. Concrete floors, a big shag rug. That's not so bad. My style, actually. A nice beige color for the walls, no picture frames or posters, though I did hang my whiteboard and corkboard.

A small black desk sat in the corner of my room, currently empty besides my purple binder. It had everything in it - my song list, lyrics to my originals, the lyrics to some covers, and sheet music that I wrote up for all my instruments.

Thankfully, my room was big enough to fit all of my equipment. If I couldn't fit my equipment in here, I don't know what I'd do.

"Jessica! Breakfast!" I heard Sarah call down the stairs.

With a small sigh, not good or bad, I walked to my doorway. I took a final glance at my room and the items inside before walking upstairs.


	4. Chapter 4

For some odd reason, I always notice my footsteps. How they sound, how they make the floorboards creak beneath my feet. It is usually such a small sound, but just loud enough that I can notice it. This house was not much different from my home when it came to that. The floors made a slight sound as I walked, but it wasn't a bad sound that I hated. On the contrary, I enjoyed it. It made this place feel a bit more like home.

The dining room wasn't really much of a dining room. Sure, it had a table and a light hanging over it, but it wasn't a completely separate room. It was attached to the kitchen. At least it wasn't just a small counter that you can't even eat at.

Sarah had a pot of coffee in the middle of the table. In one hand was a coffee mug, one with a little pink flower on it. In the other hand was a newspaper. Funny, I didn't peg her as a newspaper reader. Just another reason you shouldn't judge people.

Uncle Will was at the other side of the table, not doing much else besides feeding Annabelle. Or, at least he was attempting. She was just blowing air in his face, her hands and mouth all sticky from syrup. Pancakes for breakfast, apparently.

When Sarah looked up, she saw me, and noticeably perked up. A smile reached her lips and she gestured for a chair. "Go get some food, then sit down, okay?"

So, I now have rules for eating. That sounds terrific.

Without a word, or much more than a small murmur, I grabbed a plate that already had a nice pancake on it. Steam rolled off the top of the pancake, and the sweet smell wafted up into my nose. I could almost feel my mouth watering, just at the smell and looks.

Annabelle squealed from the 'dining room'. "Daddy! I got you!" I heard her burst into happy giggles.

I turned back and saw that Uncle Will's face was completely covered in maple syrup. His eyes were closed, and he didn't look very happy. Dang, he looked. . . Funny. That's what we'll go with. He looked funny. His hair was plastered onto his head, from the looks of it, and it was dripping off the ends of his hair.

Little Anna was in her high chair, a halfway full bottle of syrup in her small hands. It had just been a full bottle of syrup.

Maybe living here won't be so boring after all.

"Sarah, could you go get me a wash rag?" His voice sounded strained, like he was afraid to move out of his position. One wrong move could probably leave his entire body filled with little maple syrup droplets. That would be tough to wash out.

Sarah bit her lip, probably to keep from laughing, and nodded. She then got out of her chair, walking to the kitchen to get a wet wash rag.

"That's a good look, Uncle Will," I grinned, sitting down at my place. "Really. Sarah chose right."

"Oh, ha ha ha," he rolled his eyes. With that small move, maple syrup dripped down from his eyelashes and onto his cheeks. That would suck to get in your eyes.

A minute later, Sarah was back. She wiped off Annabelle first, then got her out of the high chair to go play in the living room. Once the little toddler was on the ground, wreaking havoc along the floor, Sarah set to cleaning off Will.

"You know, when I got pregnant, I never thought I would have to take care of two toddlers," she joked with a smile, wiping his face off.

"I'm not a toddler," he laughed.

"You make messes like one," she pointed out.

"Hey! That wasn't my fault-!"

"Who gave Annabelle the entire bottle of maple syrup? Full and opened?" Sarah raised one of her eyebrows questioningly.

Uncle Will paused, then sighed. "Me."

Sarah grinned. "Exactly."

"Better listen," I laughed from the other side of the table. "A woman is always right. Unless there are two women disagreeing. In that case, back away slowly and pretend nothing ever happened."

Sarah snapped her fingers and nodded. "Exactly!"

Second time she said that. It made me laugh, both at the 'second time' part and at how enthusiastically she had agreed with me. She's not so bad. It won't be too hard at all to live here.

Uncle Will just smiled and shook his head. "Women," he stated, feigning disgust.

"You know you love us!" I said in a sing-song voice, grinning from ear to ear.

He scoffed, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Never. Nope." He was so sarcastic, it almost made me laugh again.

I looked down at my plate, at the large pancake that was staring me right in the eyes. It looked so round and so nicely colored. . . Without another thought, I smothered it in maple syrup. I glanced at Uncle Will, then held up the syrup bottle. "Hm? What was that about loving women?"

He held his hands up quickly, defeated. "Nothing! Nothing at all!"

Sarah grinned and clapped her hands once. "There we go! You tell 'im, girl!"

I grinned back at her before setting the bottle down. Before I began eating, someone knocked on the door.

"I'll get it," Uncle Will announced. He was taking off his shirt, and replacing it with a new one that was on the living room chair. This place needs serious organizing. They have folded clothes just laying on the living room couch. Maybe I'm just being too hypocritical.

At least its all folded.

Uncle Will opened the door, but I wasn't really looking. From overhearing their conversation, it was a man. Obviously not one I knew of.

"Will, there's a bit of an issue," the new man said. He had a slight accent, though what sort of accent was not clear. Australian, but just a hint of it.

"What kind of issue?" Uncle Will asked, leaning to one side as he looked at the new man.

"The kind that starts with 't' and ends with 'wins'," the man growled, obviously unhappy.

Uncle stifled a laugh. "That's . . . Normal, isn't it?"

"Optimus wants us to come help. Now."

"Okay, alright, just let me say goodbye." Uncle Will turned back to Sarah and I. He shrugged helplessly and walked over. I was done with my pancake. Done with it. No way I could eat any more. Sarah was behind me, eyeing the new man.

"He won't take no for an answer," Uncle Will said, semi-quietly. "I'll be gone till dinner. Can you girls hold up without me?"

Sarah nodded and put an arm around my shoulders. "Absolutely!"

I frowned up at him. "Who's that guy. . . ?"

"Him?" He jabbed his thumb back to point at the new guy. When I nodded, he said, "Oh, that's Ron. He lives here."

That guy. Lives here. And they never thought to tell me?

Gee, don't I feel loved. Feelin' the love, guys.

Sarah and Annabelle ended up going shopping around noon. She offered to let me come with, but I politely declined. Not knowing a lot about where I live is nerve-wracking, for me. It'd do me some good to at least learn my surroundings on the lot itself.

With my phone in my pocket, my lucky key-chain hooked onto one of my belt loops, and a good attitude, I set out to explore the farm. It wasn't too big, only about two or three acres. Right beside the house was a little barn, which I decided to see first.

My feet crunched against the colorful leaves as I walked. It is autumn, after all. The leaves are falling, and there is a slight chill to the air, though not enough to make me want a jacket or a hoodie just yet.

A small neigh came from the barn.

Horses? They have a horse?

Walking a bit faster now, I made it to the barn. I gripped the wooden slide doors to the entrance and pulled. The doors slowly split away, just far enough for me to get through. When they had slid away, it creaked. Loudly. If this barn didn't look old enough, it had the creaking to prove it.

Another neigh.

I looked around the barn, and very quickly discovered a stall in the corner. The only stall. A large grey head poked out of the top half. The grey head turned towards me, then snorted and pulled the head back.

Am I that bad to look at?

I walked over to the stall and looked in, though keeping a good distance just in case the horse decided that I was 'bad' and tried to kick me. I've never been a big horse kind of girl, but I do know how to ride. Slightly. A little. Barely. But how hard can it be?

Not that I was planning on riding this new horse. No way could I even try to do that.

Very carefully, I stuck my hand into the stall, between the bars. "Hey there, girly. . . I won't hurt you. ." I cooed gently.

The grey horse eyed me cautiously. I'm pretty sure it's a girl, because of. . . Things. She threw her head up, almost bonking her forehead on the roof, before she carefully walked over to me. Her nose nudged my hand.

I smiled and rubbed her nose with three fingers. "Hey there. . "

She blew air out of her nostrils, tickling my palm. I laughed softly and rubbed her forehead between her eyes. She was wearing a faded blue halter, with a silver nameplate on the side. Etched into the metal was a name.

'Silverhoof'.

Wow. That's a coincidence. My favorite book character was named 'Silverhoof' at one point. That has to be luck or something.

At least I know my charm is working.

" 'cuz I won't give up on us, even if the skies get rough. I'm givin' you all my love. I'm still lookin' up," I sang softly, strumming on my guitar with my fingertips. I forgot my guitar picks at home, and that is really biting me in the butt. My fingers are a bit pink at the tips, from all the practicing and messing up.

"I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily, I'm here to stay to make the difference that I can make," I continued, doing a few chords as smoothly as I could.

"Our differences, they do a lot to teach us how to use the tools and gifts we got, yeah, we gotta lot at stake. . ."

The ceiling of the room made a slight creaking sound, though I ignored it as I continued to play. Hopefully, the microphone won't pick up that sound and ruin the recording.

"And in the end you're still my friend, at least we did intend for us to work. We didn't break, we didn't burn. We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in. I had to learn what I got, and what I'm not, and who I am."

The door was closed. Whether or not sound can get through is not known. I guess we'll find out.

" 'cuz I won't give up-"

"JESSICA!" Anna burst into my room.

Oh, no. She just-!

My recording was-!

"Anna!"

_**PLEASE COMMENT, VOTE, ALL THAT GOOD STUFF! :D**_


	5. Chapter 5

Serves me right, really. Yelling at a toddler for something she didn't mean to do is not the way to go if you want to get in somebody's good graces. In fact, that is the opposite of what you should do. That was a big mistake on my part.

The recording was ruined. I could try to work an hour to finish it, then make the old recording blend in with the new last part, but it would be next to impossible to get it seamless. This room is great for doing some things, but for others, it just doesn't work out that well.

Now, school. Starts tomorrow.

My bedroom was completely silent. It was three in the morning, and all three were asleep upstairs. My music doesn't make a sound past the thick concrete walls. The acoustics aren't the best, but they are something at least.

My bed, a simple full size, was all cramped in the corner. If the light was on, barely any light shone down on my bed. It was perfect. If I fell asleep with the lights on, it wouldn't both me much, besides the high electric bill. In the middle of one wall, my electronic keyboard sat. A round chair, black, was pushed into it to conserve space. My red drum set was in one other corner, completely opposite of my door. My two guitars were in their stands next to my electric keyboard.

If I had to pick a favorite instrument, it would either be keyboard or acoustic guitar. I know them the best, and I can play the most with them. The rest are just backups that I record, then mash them into new tracks to make the song sound more like the original track.

That reminds me. I need to go to some hardware store to get some new tech for my laptop.

Three in the morning, but I know they won't mind me borrowing the truck. . . I have my licence, after all. It won't be illegal. I think. Maybe checking up on the laws of curfew in DC wouldn't hurt. Then again, who does that? Me. Of course.

I sighed before leaning back on my bed. There was no way that I could go back to sleep. Once I start thinking, my mind just reels and reels and I can't stop thinking, even if my life depended on it.

Outside, I could faintly hear the barks of Brandi. She was stuck outside, being an outside dog and all. I don't know the weather much here, but it does rain often. At least once or twice a week, at this time of year. As far as I can tell.

The barks didn't get softer or dissipate, but instead got louder. That stirred up my suspicions. I stood up on my bed and checked out the top window, the only one outside. The bottom of the window was at ground level. Outside the window was Brandi, jumping up and down. Almost as if she was trying to climb a tree.

Her ears twitched, her head craning back and forth. Brandi's eyes showed a hint of worry mixed with fear, something I've never seen with her before. A little red light hit her nose, and she howled in pain before she fell to the ground.

My eyes widened. I quickly slipped on my shoes, but my hands were too shaky to be able to do any lace-tying or even velcro. Thinking quickly, I grabbed my slippers and slid them on. In record time, I was up the stairs and out the door.

The back screen door clattered shut. The ground was damp, my slippers almost getting stuck in the mud as I ran over to Brandi. I searched the sky as quick as I could to see if I could find out what exactly had happened.

Nothing. Not a single sign. Just the stars. Just lights. What could have been in the air that would have gotten her, anyway?

Come on, Jess. No such thing as ETs. Impossible.

At least, not coming here. What does Earth offer?

We offer water and bad air and crappy people.

We are so awesome. Yay.

Brandi was on her side, her eyes open. It was a strange look. Like her body was frozen in that position, but she was awake and could hear and see. Though I'm not one hundred percent sure that's the case. That's just from observations.

"You can't help her like that."

My head whipped around. My neck will surely hate me in the morning. Or, later in the morning.

It was Ron. How did he know I was out here?

"She was paralyzed." He knelt down and patted her head. "It wears off quickly."

"You're getting the knees of your jeans wet," I said. "And how do you know what happened?"

"I wasn't far away. I saw it- heard it."

"Then what happened?"

"That is something for me to know and for you to find out," he smirked. "I don't think we've formally met."

"Probably because I don't make a point to acquaint myself with strange men," I smiled sweetly. "Especially ones that are old."

He chuckled. "Old is right. Millions." He absently ran his hand through his hair, then looked to the sky. "Old as dirt. . . And older."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, totally."

"Ron."

"Hm?"

"My name is Ron, kid. I'm doing a little thing called 'introduction'. Now, you have to go and-"

"Ai, ai, ai. I get the process. I'm Jessica. Call me Jess or something, whatever you like." I sat down and pulled Brandi into my lap. She was limp, easy to move, even for being such a big dog.

Ron smirked. "You're going to get your aft wet."

My face twisted in utter confusion. What the. . .? "My what?"

"Your a- behind."

What is up with people messing up their words around me? They seem to do that a lot. Maybe it's just me, and they do that to everybody. Or it's just them and they do it to everybody. Who knows. I sure as heck don't.

Ron grunted and looked up at the sky. "You need to get some sleep, kid."

Sleep. That sounds fun. Maybe I should try it sometime. "I'm good."

"You have school tomorrow, and a teenager your age would require a minimum of ten hours of sleep to fully function-"

"I did just say that I was good," I squinted at him. "Why don't you go get some sleep, and I'll watch the stars, hm? Sound good, Ronny?"

He grunted. "Don't call me that. It's a degrading name."

"What exactly is 'Ron' short for anyway?"

"A code name," he replied.

"Oh, and is that classified or something?" I asked

"Maybe."

"What's your name?" I asked again.

"Ron," he replied.

"Full name," I demanded.

"Something else," he smirked.

"You are no fun," I crossed my arms. Maybe he's right. Irritable as ever. I'm never a fun person if I'm irritable. Would it be my fault or his fault that I'm not in a good, peachy mood? Let's blame him, that sounds more fun.

"I never am. Just ask anybody," he crossed his arms, mimicking me.

"You are just a little craphead," I declared before kissing Brandi's furry head. "Isn't he, Brandi Sue? Isn't he just a lil' craphead?"

Her tail flicked, though in a strained way. At least it was beginning to wear off.

Finally, I looked up to the stars. Out here, so many stars were visible. Never been one for astronomy, but I can pick out a fair few constellations. Meaning one. The little dipper. I pointed my finger at the stars, closing one eye, and traced the little dipper with my finger.

Ron eyed me in amusement. "What are you doing?"

"I'm finding the little dipper," I replied with a smile, opening my other eye and closing the one that had been opened. Then, I traced the little dipper again, in a slightly different angle.

He rolled his eyes. "That hardly seems to be working."

"And you are one to talk because. . . ?"

"I'm not. I'm just observing."

I laughed. "Oh! So that makes it okay to judge me? Observation?"

"Depends on the subject."

This guy has a weird way of talking. Aft, and just his word structure. Along with his accent.

It took me another ten minutes to discover that it was a full moon. Yes, I'm slow. When I'm tired. Ron didn't help my case on that. The full moon looked gorgeous, and I could slowly start picking out songs to describe it in my mind.

I hummed as I tapped my fingers on my knee, finding a good beat for the song. Some words hit my mind for the song, and the chorus was almost writing itself. Almost. It won't end up very well, I can almost guarentee it.

"Bringing light to shine down, light that is shining bright. Everybody can see, how amazing could that be? When the lights go down, nothing new can be found, but discoveries are made~" I whispered quietly. It probably made no sense. Hence why I only sing the covers to songs and never write that many songs.

Ron was still there. He was freaking annoying me, questioning my every move. He didn't have anything better to do. Why bother me? Go for a drive in Uncle's truck or something. Actually, that was what I wanted to do.

I turned to Ron. "Hey, Ronny?"

"Do not-"

"Yeah, yeah, but can I drive Uncle's truck to the hardware store? I need some new stuff for my instruments and my computer. New software."

"Do they sell that at the . . Hardware store?" he asked, tilting his head.

A pause. From me.

How the heck am I suppose to know? They did at my home town. Maybe that was 'odd' or something, but that was what they mostly sold. "Yes. . ."

"Liar."

"I'm guessing, not outright lying."

"Guessing?"

"Guesstimating."

". . . . What?"

"Guess estimating. Guesstimating!"

He sighed. My stupidity must have been stumping him. "Fine. We can go to this hardware store."

I smiled. "Great! Where is it?"

"You don't know?" he gave me a look that clearly said 'what the heck?'.

"No," I deadpanned. "I just moved here. And-" I stopped in my tracks. Why should I be talking to him? It's nighttime. Dark outside. Alone. He's a bunch older than me. I shouldn't be doing this. What if he's some perv that-? I'm not taking my chances.

The joints of my back hated me, for the position I had sat in, but I got up to my feet anyway. My sleeppants were all muddy, along with my slippers. Ron raised an eyebrow in my direction, but I hooked up Brandi's leash and slowly led her away.

"Where are you going?" he called as I walked to the house.

"Bed. Where I'm suppose to be."

Now, why was he up in the first place? That's an interesting thought.

**~AN~**

**Hello, my good people. This is the first Author's Note in this book, I believe. What are your thoughts on this story so far? Is it good or bad. . . ? It's my only on-going fanfiction at this point, at least posted. I love Ironhide, but he can be a real craphead, you know?**

**Anyway, comment what you think, and I'd really love it! Vote as well, please!**


	6. Chapter 6

"Jessica, wake up, school starts in less than two hours!"

You know, I never would have thought it would be my uncle waking me up for school. I always assumed it would be Sarah, or Annabelle running in and jumping on my bed. But no, it was just Uncle Will.

My back cracked a little as I sat up in bed. One look in the mirror made me frown. Did my hair get that messed up in less than two hours of sleeping? Why yes, yes it did. Stupid hair. Sometimes, shaving it all off sounds good, but I know it would just grow back and be more of a pain in the butt when it's two inches long.

Quickly, I got dressed. A simple outfit that I knew wouldn't make me stand out. Just a pair of dark skinny jeans, a purple t-shirt, and some black socks with white music notes on them. I found my grey and pink tennis shoes in my closet, and slipped them on before I grabbed my lucky music pick. As it turns out, I had packed it inside my guitar. Not the smartest place to put a pick.

Took me about an hour before I finally went to sleep to find it, then another half hour to get it out. It was about four when I went to sleep at last.

I pinched the pick between my pointer finger and my thumb. It was thin at the end where you strum, but thicker where you had to put your fingers. Scrawled across it in white letters are "Dream On", surrounded by red plastic. It meant a lot to me because of those two words, written by my idol. At least, that's what they had told me.

My feet made the stairs creak as I walked up them. The kitchen smelled strongly of bacon and burnt toast. Everybody was in their specific spots for eating breakfast - Uncle Will at one end, Annabelle next to him, and Sarah at the other end.

My plate had already been made, thanks to Sarah, so I simply sat down. I lifted up my fork and began eating my scrambled eggs.

Sarah sipped her coffee. "So, are you excited for school?" she smiled over at me.

I shrugged as I swallowed a bite of scrambled eggs. "I'm not sure 'excited' would be a good word to use."

Uncle Will chuckled. "That's because of nerves. Just wait, the first day won't be so bad."

I raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? And what do you know about first days?"

"I don't. . ."

"Exactly," I laughed softly, eating another bite. "How big are classes here?"

"Not too big," Sarah replied. "The administrator said that this class only has one hundred and fifty students, and the senior class above you is thirty kids less than that."

Bring statistics and numbers into the equation. "That's not too bad." Smaller than my old school. With all my friends and everybody.

Uncle Will looked between us. "My senior class was five hundred kids."

I dropped my fork in fake surprise. "Whaaat? No!"

Sarah snorted.

Uncle Will frowned. "I'm serious!"

I took my last bite of egg, gave my bacon to Anna, then patted Uncle Will's cheek as I passed him on my way to the kitchen. "Cheer up, you old fart."

"I'm not old-!" he protested.

Sometimes, he does act more like a toddler than his own age. Maybe that's just a guy thing.

A male cleared his throat, making me turn on my heels. I bumped into Ron's chest, then took a quick step back.

"Will, are we departing soon?" Ron asked. His speech was always so weird.

Uncle Will shrugged as he wiped his mouth with a napkin. "When Jess is ready, we'll go."

Ron turned to me, tilting his head down.

Being short sucks. He looked so intimidating from that angle. "Gimme ten minutes?"

"Three," he countered.

"Nine," I replied.

"Three and a half."

"Fifteen."

"Ten."

"Ha!" I grinned. I walked into the kitchen, put my plate and fork in the sink. "I'll go brush my teeth or something."

It took me a total of ten minutes to get ready. Ron sat by the front door the entire time, tapping his foot and kept glancing at the wall clock. Uncle Will kissed Sarah quickly, then kissed Annabelle's cheek before waiting with Ron.

Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I take forever to get ready. Some people need to realize that.

"Okay, I'm ready," I announced, shoving my cell into my pocket. Whitney, my friend from back home, keeps texting me and blowing up my phone. It's mostly just her, and sometimes Jared and Dakota, but mostly Whitney.

Ron grunted, nodding. "Then let's go."

Uncle Will quickly agreed, and just like that, we were off. They dropped me off at the front of the high school, where I had to find the front office and get my schedule.

"Jessica Lennox," I told the secretary.

The secretary was just like any other. She was older, maybe forty or fifty, with grey showing in between her dark brown hair strands. She wore a white long sleeved shirt under a baby blue camouflage vest. "Alrighty. . . Jessica, your schedule is being printed in the room right across the hall. 203B. You may go get it, then come right back here. A student will be in here to show you around your classes." She smiled. "Alright?"

I nodded. "Okay."

The printer was jammed.

Just my luck, right?

Somebody tapped on my shoulder. I quickly turned around to see who it was.

A taller guy, about my age or a year older, smiled. Pearly whites. That's nice. "Having problems?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I guess. The printer is jammed."

"It's always jammed," he chuckled. He kicked the bottom of the printer, but it didn't help anything. He gave the printer a death glare. "It is an insubordinate-"

"Hey, now, what did the printer do to you?" I laughed. "Calm down, it's not going to be that big of a hassle to get a tech guy over here to fix it."

"There would be no use of a 'tech guy' if I could fix it," he replied, crossing his arms.

Okay, so he's arrogant. "Kicking the poor printer wouldn't qualify as 'fixing'."

"If it worked after I kicked it, it would very much qualify."

"Not really."

"Yes really-"

"Scott Maggalt, please report to the office with Jessica Lennox. Scott Maggalt, please report to the office with Jessica Lennox." That loudspeaker will annoy me by the second week of school. I can almost guarantee it.

The guy, Scott I guess it was, sighed and looked over at me. "Apparently, it seems I need to bring you back to the office."

"Yep," I nodded, popping the 'p'. For a split second, his eyes flickered. I'm not sure how you would explain it. It was like a flash of light, then suddenly, it was gone. Wow, that's not odd at all!

Scott held out his hand for me. "Come on."

"Um, no, I'm good," I replied. No way was I going to hold his hand. I don't date, and frankly, I don't know him. That should be enough, right?

I kept my hands to my sides as I walked beside him to the front office. He seemed annoyed by every little thing. The lockers - "What is the point of these stupid contraptions?" -, the school itself - "The world wide web would suffice!" - , and even the teachers themselves.

"The best teacher you could ever have is yourself," he declared as we walked inside the office.

The secretary looked up. She sighed before writing down my classes on a piece of notebook paper and handing it to me. "Those are all your classes for the day. It will be that way until January, for they do not change day to day. The second semester won't begin for another ninety school days. Any questions?"

I glanced at the sheet. Advanced chemistry. Astronomy. English 12+. Trigonometry. Homeroom. Lunch. Study hall. Not all in that order.

Wait, astronomy? "Is astronomy a mandatory course?" I asked.

"Yes, it is. Many students think highly of it, in fact, so it should not be any trouble," she smiled up at me.

"We also have it together. Second period," Scott said.

Oh, great. Fun fun fun. "If I don't take it, will I still be allowed to graduate next year?"

The secretary sighed once more. "Yes, you would graduate, but I can not guarantee that you will be accepted into any high league colleges." It was easy to tell that she didn't like me arguing with her. Her words sounded forced.

I sighed. No use in arguing anymore. It's what my parents would have wanted. "That's fine."

"Good. Classes start in three minutes. You better get going. Scott here will show you around."

Oh, the joy.

First period trigonometry was not all sunshine and roses. The teacher pretty much wants to pick a fight with me, and I mouthed off to her. Sure, I felt bad for it after, but she totally deserved it no matter what. She asked me stupid questions that she knew that I didn't know the answer to. Like, "Where is your homework assignment?". Lady, I don't know! I wasn't here!

Second period was meh. I hate the class, but love the teacher. He's very nice. Too bad all my classes have Scott in it. He ruins everything. I don't know why, he just is a very dis-likable person, in my view. Always trying to disapprove of everything and trying to suck up to some teachers. Maybe I don't like him because he's like me.

Very opinionated, very much of a suck up to teachers, and mean to people behind their backs.

Maybe that's why I never had many friends before I turned fifteen.


	7. Chapter 7

Once I was home, I almost decided to re-record "I Won't Give Up", but I soon decided against it. Sarah was home, along with Annabelle.

It wouldn't have been the best decision to try to make the new vocal and guitar tracks when either of them could burst in the door. If that happened, the 'new' track would be ruined. Each track line I buy is not suppose to be deleted so often, and they aren't cheap, so I have to be careful with how many I use.

"Hey, Sarah," I smiled as I walked in the front door. The house smelled like cookies. Chocolate chip, I believe. Whatever the type, it smelled heavenly.

Sarah turned around from stirring something on the stove-top, then smiled back. "Oh, hey! How was school, Jess?"

School. That sounds like something Mom would-

No, I'm not going to think about that. No no no.

"School was okay, I guess. I liked most of the teachers, except one, and I already ahve a favorite teacher."

Like the teacher, hate the class's subject. Is that normal, or not so much?

"Who's your favorite teacher?" she grinned.

Something tells me that she's trying to take on a motherly role here. . . I internally sighed at the thought, though not showing anything bad externally. "His name is Coach Koon, or at least that's what we call him."

"Doesn't he teach astronomy?" she asked, turning back to the stove-top and stirring whatever was inside that pot. I highly doubt _that_ is what the amazing smell is coming from. Chocolate and amazingness and heaven and sugar and amazingness and goodness. . . Yum!

Wait, she asked a question.

"Yeah, that's what he teaches," I nodded, a sappy smile slipping onto my lips. What can I say? I'm a girl who likes that dang good smell. It's so amazing. . .

Sarah laughed. "The cookies will be done soon enough, Jess." She gestured to the oven. "Only fifteen more minutes."

My jaw dropped. "Fifteen? Whaaat? Aw. . "

In what world do cookies take fifteen minutes long to bake? And how does she live to smell that amazing smell and not want to just gobble up all that cookie dough?

Maybe she's not human. That is a total possibility.

Ha. As if.

"Fifteen minutes," she repeated, obviously trying so hard not to grin. Apparently, my hunger for those darn cookies was too much for her to handle.

_"I will not make the same mistakes that you did," I sang softly, trying to figure out the chords for my song. My newest song. "I can not let myself cause my heart so much misery. . ."_

Pasts make us stronger. Mine will not be shared.

No burdening anyone with useless past stories.

Never.

_"I learn the hard way to never let it get that far."_

If I hadn't been through it, would i be the same? No way. I would not be me. Me is all I can be. But I can not be me with other people.

Don't show weakness.

_"I'm forced to fake a smile, a laugh, everday of my life."_

If life was easier on me, I would not be anything. I would be selfish and narcissistic. Thinking I deserve all that I have.

That is never going to happen. I don't deserve all this.

_"You never thought of anyone else, you just saw your pain."_

Heartbreak. Why does it have to be so hard?

_"I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty! Because of you, I am afraid."_

Song express such emotion that is impossible to verbally express. And some of those expressions should never be shared.

I learned that the hard way.

"Congrats, Uncle Will!" I grinned, patting my uncle on his shoulder. "Major Lennox!"

He gave me a matching grin back. Way proud of his new title. "Thanks, Jess. It only took me a year to make it up to this."

Ron grunted. "A year of hard work. Very well earned."

This was what Sarah made the cookies for. To celebrate his new title. She had known early this morning, after I got to school.

Being Major in his division. I'm not so sure what that is suppose to mean, but it's a very important title, as I can tell from his emotions. The ones he is expressing.

"My lovie, Major Lennox." Sarah hugged Uncle Will tightly from behind.

The way they love each other is so amazing. One can dream to have a picture perfect relationship like theirs one day.

"Brandi, dinner!" I called. Eight o'clock sharp. Always her dinnertime. I whistled, then tapped my foot as I waited for her to come trotting over.

Usually, I would hear her footsteps. The dried leaves on the ground always made it easy for me to hear if anybody was coming by.

Nothing.

"Brandi!" I whistled again. "Come on, baby girl!"

The wind whistled, though it wasn't too particularly strong. It blew a few more leaves off of the old Oak tree in the back of the lot. Nothing was too wet, but it was all dry and cool. No rain came, even though that was what the weatherman said would come tonight. They can be wrong, I guess.

I turned around, to see if she would try to sneak up on me or something, but I didn't see her. All that was there was the old barn. Surely, she would have heard me whistle if she was inside there.

Right?

The more I thought about it, the more worried I grew. Eventually, I decided to go look for her. After I grabbed pop can, I stuck a few rocks in it. I shook it, and it made a loud sound. She should be able to hear that.

I began my search, looking everywhere. The lot wasn't too terribly large, so it didn't take that long to find a spot she had to be in. Unless she ran away, which was unlikely.

"Brandi!" I shook the can, making the loud rattling noise. "Brandi, here girl! Here, girly girly!"

_Whimper_.

My body quickly turned to where the sound was coming from. At the sight, I dropped the can. Tears rushed to my eyes.

Oh, no. . No no no. . .

"UNCLE WILL! SARAH!" I cried, trying not to let the tears roll down my cheeks.


	8. Chapter 8

Maybe it's me. All my fault. Everything turns out to be my fault, doesn't it? Doesn't that give me the right to think that everything will be my fault?

Everything _bad_, anyway. That's all that ever happens. I get a smidgen of good, then bad overwhelms the picture. It gets to be too much sometimes.

"Jessica." Sarah took her hands and gently placed them on my cheeks. "This was _not_ your fault, okay?"

"Okay," I replied half-heartily. She deserves more, and I knew it, but. . . I just can't give her that right now.

When three deaths happen within a _month_ of each other in your life, what else are you going to expect from a girl? Especially when you have no freaking clue how they happened?

It must be the absolute most frustrating thing known to mankind. If not the most, then just pretty darn high up there, if they were to rank it. A good ranking system would be good, if everything fit into some sort of category.

What am I talking about? That's a terrible idea!

"Jess, it'll be okay," Uncle Will told me gently as he drove on the highway.

We had just buried Brandi in a pet cemetery in a town called Wilshire. She had gotten shot with some bullet, and the bullet was too far inside her chest to be able to safely remove it. The vet told us that it would be more humane just to put her down.

If that's the case, then why not put me down as well? It would save my uncle so much trouble. He has enough to deal with, with Anna being the age she is. The last thing he needs is an emotional, broken, hormonal teenager.

God bless my uncle. Truly.

"Nobody pack up! There's still two minutes left in class!"

_It's Friday. Last class of the day, too. Who **wouldn't **pack up already?_

"I still don't get the point of classes," Scott muttered. He had spent the entire class period mimicking the teacher, making sly comebacks to what the teacher has said, and throwing little wadded up scraps of paper at people's backs.

I let out a breath before turning my head to face Scott. "The point is to get kids to learn."

"Well, that much is obvious. But why do we have to learn in the same room?"

"So that we can all learn the same thing at the same time, to be sure we all learn what we need. It also saves time."

"Why do we need classrooms, if we have the internet?"

"How about you Google that question?" I retorted.

"Go Bing it!" a male in my class called out, at hearing the term "Google it".

Scott chuckled. "Fair enough."

Scott really isn't that bad. He questions everything, but the things he does know about are very interesting. He's smart, and really should be in the grade above. I don't know why he isn't a senior this year. If he was, maybe he'd not question the teachers as much. He'd actually learn something.

The bell rang loudly through the school. Everybody in my class sprang up from their desks and headed for the door, but not in time.

Mrs. Hadley closed the door, tapping her foot. "How _rude_. All of you. You never listen to me, you never pay attention during this class. This may be the beginning of the year, but I deserve the same amount of respect as you would give anyone."

"_None_," Scott muttered under his breath. Luckily, Mrs. Hadley didn't hear him.

She continued. "All of you should be ashamed of yourselves."

From the corner of my eye, I could see Scott tapping his foot impatiently.

"Over the course of the weekend, the homework is to write a three page essay on respect. Font size should be eleven at maximum. No double spacing. You are dismissed."

Three pages about respect. How fun. Right?

As soon as I got home, Uncle Will surprised me with a bird. Not another dog, since he knew I was still sore over Brandi the week previous, and not a cat, because they have two barn cats. A bird.

The bird sat on one of many perches in a red-bar bird cage. There was a little container of seed in one corner, and a water bottle - one for birds, of course - near the top. Probably near the top so that the bird doesn't poop in the water dish. Smart.

When he surprised me with a bird. . . Well. . .

"_DAMN BITCH!_" a weird voice squealed.

Annabelle instantly tried to copy those words, but just ended up jumbling some random sounds together. She was better at talking some days, and not so good other days.

At the squealing, though, I walked into the living room. Uncle Will was trying to spray the bird with a water bottle sprayer, while Sarah was attempting to get Annabelle to realize that those words were 'naughty'.

Good luck, Sarah!

"What is this?" I pointed to the red bird cage and the bird.

"This is your new bird," Uncle Will replied, smiling, though forced. He was agitated at the bird, and it was so obvious. Just so obvious.

My head tilted. "Bird?"

"Yeah, we got you a bird. He can speak pretty well."

"_DAMMIT!_" the bird shrieked again. When I looked at the bird, he gave me a wink and waved one clawed foot at me. He almost looked like he was smiling.

This will be trouble. What on Earth have you gotten yourself into, Uncle Will? I internally shook my head in disbelief.

He's in way over his head. He has no clue how to take care of a bird!

"We got him from an old coworker of mine," Sarah explained. "He needed a loving home, since his old owner was moving to California."

"Why was she moving?" I asked curiously.

"To pursue a career in acting and singing."

Well, isn't that interesting. That is exactly what I'd like to do, but _no_, I have to finish school and get a good college education first.

At least my parents will be proud.

"What's his name?" I asked. "The bird's name."

"MY NAME'S ANGELO!" he cried out. His voice sounded so odd.

"Well then!" I replied in the same tone, but a little softer.

Welcome to the family, Angelo.

**~AN~**

**Heeey! The reason the bird's name is Angelo is because a year ago today, my own bird Angelo died. This is for you, baby! 3 Love you, Angelo!**


	9. Chapter 9

The next few days, or even weeks, were extremely uneventful. In other words, very boring. Nothing much happened. I made a few more song covers, messed up my guitar to where it won't play correctly, then played with Angelo. His cussing has stifled. To an extent. He does curse still, but it's a little less than when we first got him.

Angelo is okay, but he is nothing compared to Brandi. She had been my puppy. My first very own pet to care for. I taught her tricks, we cuddled whenever I was sad, and she even was learning how to play fetch- but then she died. And I don't even know how she died, or if I could have prevented it.

Today was the day I had to babysit for Anna. Sarah and Will decided that they needed some 'adult time'. Dinner, movie, and a hotel. As if that isn't at all suspicious.

"Jess, hun, you sure you can take care of her all by yourself?" Sarah asked as she grabbed her purse. "We could always hire someone-"

"No no, I'm fine," I smiled. "It'll give me some time to get to know her better." Not exactly true, but they kinda needed to go. Uncle Will was already in their little car, waiting. They weren't taking the truck because it needed a wash.

Sarah smiled, then kissed my cheek. "Okay. The numbers are all on the fridge, and if anything happens, don't hesitate to call or text my cell."

"I won't," I replied. "You two have fun."

The smile on her face never vanished as she walked out to the little car and got inside.

I rubbed my hands together in anticipation. Anna was in her Walk-a-Tot chair, ones that roll around and she can 'walk', but she's sort of sitting still. It's hard to explain. "So, Anna, what do you want to do?"

"Paint!" she exclaimed happily.

Angelo, whose cage was on the entertainment center by the TV, caught her words. _"Paint!" _he cried out happily. That voice of his was both annoying and interesting.

But painting? They wouldn't be too happy to come home and find paint on the new hardwood floors, and even the walls. We had enough trouble cleaning up after she spilled tomato sauce on the walls. They still have some stains on them. "I'm not sure-"

"I WANT TO PAINT!"

Well, God!

An hour later, a knock came at the door. I looked up. It was seven by now. It wasn't Sarah or Uncle Will, they would have told me they were coming back. It wasn't Anna- she was right here. It must be-

"Hey, kid," Ron said gruffly as he walked inside. "Where are Will and Sarah?" His hint of a British accent never ceased to amuse me. He never spoke of England, but I have no idea where he's from. An interesting character, he is.

"They went out for the night," I said, keeping a close eye on Anna. I had made her strip down so she was just in her toddler diaper. Just in case she spilled something. "Dinner, a movie, then to a hotel."

He chuckled. "That last part is a bit-"

"Obvious? Maybe they're just too nervous I or you would hear them if they did it here," I grinned. My parents never made much noise, so I never knew if- That is not a great topic. Bad Jess. Think of better topics.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "You pay attention to their sounds?"

I shrugged. "I have good ears, I would have heard it."

"They don't make sounds when they are 'asleep'."

"You sound like a creeper when you say that."

He wriggled his eyebrows. "Maybe I am."

I snorted. "That's lovely. The army recruits creepers to serve our country. I feel _so_ safe."

"You _should_ feel safe," he said, kneeling down across from me and Anna. "The things we do are all to keep you civilians safe."

Ron truly wasn't that bad of a person. He didn't know many manners, he could be impatient, but then again, everybody has those bad days. It isn't just him. Being judgemental is something I need to work on. Starting with my opinion of him.


	10. Chapter 10

Annabelle was asleep by ten that night. Her usual bedtime was around eight-thirty, but kept forgetting when her bedtime was, so she ended up staying up a few hours later than she should. Maybe she'll sleep later and I won't have to wake up so early.

"Kid, what are you doing?" Ron asked, his voice as gruff as always. "What's that-"

"It's a new movie Sarah bought for Will," I replied. "The Conjuring. It's a horror movie." Watching my first horror movie at ten at night, with a weird man in the same room? This will definitely be interesting. No better time than the present, right?

I slid the movie into the side of the TV and pressed play. The beginning trailers came on, and I walked into the kitchen to make some popcorn. "You want anything?"

"What do you have to offer?" he answered in a smart-alec tone.

"I have a can of kick your butt, some kiss mine, and Milk Duds and popcorn!"

"I'll take the last two options!"

The popcorn popped in the microwave loudly, even louder than the movie trailers. It took a few minutes before the popping subsided, and I took the steamy bag out and dumped the now popped popcorn into the bown and showered the top with Milk Duds. It's something Daddy used to do, putting Milk Duds over his popcorn at the movie theater.

Sounds of 'horror' came through the TV's speakers as I walked into the room. I sat down a foot or so away from Ron and put the bowl of popcorn between us. "How were the trailers?"

"Meaningless," he replied, staring oddly at the Milk Duds. "What are those?"

"Milk Duds," I replied, popping one into my mouth. "It's caramel covered in chocolate. It's really good, but sometimes hard to chew."

Slowly, he picked up one Milk Dud and examined it. He smelled it, brought it up to his eyes to look at it more clearly, then slowly placed it into his mouth. His pupils dilated, weirdly enough, and he ate it up real quickly.

Laughing, I asked, "Is it good?"

"It's... It's.. Perfect.." he breathed.

Let's just hope he doesn't end up getting fat off of the useless simple sugars like I did. It takes forever to get those fats off of your body.

The movie started out simple enough. A family moving into an older house, a little eerie, but nothing too out of the ordinary. Until-

"OMIGAWSH!" I screamed as the face of some horrifying woman appeared on the screen, the music pounding my eardrums. Ron bellowed in laughter at my outburst, and I slapped him. "Not cool!"

"You'll wake Anna," he chuckled.

"She sleeps like a rock, she won't hear."

The popcorn was all eaten by the middle of the movie, as they started chatting about some Annabelle doll. The name just freaked me out. Why on Earth would Sarah and Will name their precious child after that accursed doll?! Seriously?!

Obviously they haven't seen this horrifying movie.

I was almost rocking back in forth, hugging my legs close to my chest, watching the movie. It was both amazing and mentally scarring. People say its not a scary movie. Liars.

Ron turned his head to face me, and smirked when he saw my horrified expression. "You alright?"

"Nooooo, and I never will be," I muttered, then screamed as a sudden face appeared on the screen. A whole body, all bloodied up. It was horrible. "OMIGAWSH!"

He couldn't stop laughing at all my expressions and reactions. Was me being scared to death funny? Apparently so. That annoying man...

I didn't even realize when I fell asleep.

**~AN~**

**Short chapter, I know :( but I have another chapter coming up right now, so all should be well! This is more of a filler that I just thought of. It isn't exactly essential to the plot or anything. Yet :D**


	11. Chapter 11

Waking up has never been my favorite thing ever. A lot of people can agree with me when I say such a 'bold' statement like that. But, when you wake up the way I did, you forget very quickly how much you hate waking up.

When I woke up the next morning, I could easily tell that I wasn't alone. At first, I thought it was Annabelle, but then I realized it wasn't. It couldn't be. The person next to me was not small. And did not smell like baby. Male. . . Not small. . .

It took all that I had not to cry out as I got to my senses. Ron and I had slept next to each other on the couch. Not only that, but he had his arms around me. The last thing I remembered of the night before was freaking out over the movie, being terrified. Maybe he had been trying to comfort me?

Even so, that is no reason for him to be holding me like this. He's, what, in his mid-twenties? I'm a teenager. That wouldn't work in any way, or be legal. At least, that's what I think is in the law.

Ron groaned softly in his sleep. The sound made me internally chuckle. He really wasn't so bad. Just the fact that we were so different would make anything difficult.

Thinking deeper, I realized how quickly my thoughts had changed. A total one-eighty in views. First I thought it was completely revolting, but in reality, it's not. He has a fairly good personality. Looks, for him, are very attractive. If he actually liked me, there'd be no problem. There is no reason I shouldn't like him. Age shouldn't matter.

Oh. Except Uncle Will. What would he think? Probably send me away to some weird place, or kick Ron out. Uncle may not like it, to be honest.

Another soft sound tore me from my thoughts once more, but this time it wasn't from Ron. Annabelle must have been banging on her crib, and Angelo began squawking right back in response. Squawks, at least the ones coming from Angelo, weren't all horrid-sounding. It may sound pleasant, in the right tone and octave and key. Maybe if I could record it sometime, I could use it for my newest original. The words aren't finished yet, but it's coming together. Working on that song isn't my top priority.

Focus, Jess, focus.

As slowly and as carefully as I could, I untangled myself from Ron's embrace and padded upstairs. It wasn't too surprising that Ron didn't wake up from all of Angelo's noise. Must be a heavy sleeper, though since he's a soldier, I would think he would have been the opposite.

When I walked into Annabelle's room, she looked over at me with a sleepy grin, then realized that I wasn't her mommy. "Jessie, where Mommy?"

Looks like I was right. "Mommy is out of the house right now, baby girl." I slid my hands under her arms and lifted her out of the crib, gently setting her down on the ground. "Mommy and Daddy will be back later."

"Where they go?"

How do you explain this to a toddler? "They went to go see a movie, then. . . Cuddling." Because cuddling probably ended up happening at some point when they were gone. After other certain stuff happened.

Breakfast was simple enough. I made pancakes for all three of us, fed Angelo while I waited for them to get golden, and had to prevent Anna from jumping up onto Ron. It only worked in preventing her from one attempt. The second one she made was a major success.

"Oof!" Ron hissed under his breath as he felt the chubby toddler jump right onto his midsection. His eyes flickered in annoyance, then softened when he realized who it was. He kissed her hair like how Sarah often did. "Hey there, Anna."

"Hai, Ron!" she giggled and waved, almost hitting him in the face. "Jessie's making breakfast!"

"Is that so?" he laughed softly, a deep sound- okay, Jess, too much focus. "What is she making?"

"She's making pancakes, if you care so much," I grinned, leaning against the door that connected the kitchen and the living room. "But it doesn't have maple syrup. It's a special type that my mom used to make."

"Oh?" He raised his eyebrows. "What is it made out of, then?"

"Magic. You'll just have to wait and see."

The pancakes were actually simple, but I made them so that I knew for sure Anna would eat them. I took a few fresh strawberries and cut them in half, then placed them in the middle of the pancakes like noses. Next I got some chocolate chips out and made the eyes and mouth. Last, I sprinkled a little powdered sugar around the edge of the pancakes. And voila.

It didn't take too long for Annabelle to eventually eat half of her pancake, take off all the chocolate and eat it, then inhaled the strawberry. Not literally inhaling, she just ate it so fast, she might as well have inhaled it.

"Anna, calm down, it isn't a race," I chided as I watched her eat all the 'good' stuff. That included licking her finger, running it over the powdered sugar, and sucking the white powder off her finger. And repeat.

Ron laughed. He had gotten his share ate by time time I had gotten halfway done with my pancake. The thought had been nice, to make such pancakes, but it seems like a waste now. Anna only ate the sugar.

Anna grinned at me, her lips covered with powdered sugar. "Thank yooouuu, Jessie!" she giggled. A small bit of white 'smoke' came out of her mouth. The powdered sugar. Great.

By noon, Anna's sugar high had come and gone. She was in a long nap, and I set on the 'baby monitor', the speaker in my pocket. If she woke up, I'd know. I set out to get to the barn, feed the animals and stuff. Will had taught me. Then, off to studying.

Ron accompanied me to the barn. "What are you doing?" he asked curiously.

"Feeding the horse," I answered curtly, though it was only a tease. He should have known that. "A scoop of grain, half of oats, and a handful of hay at noon, then turn-out at three."

Like before, his eyebrows raised. "That sounds specific. Did Will tell you that?"

"It's what he does, so since he's not here and won't be back until five, I have to do it."

"Okay then."

It felt sort of nice. He helped me feed all the animals, the chickens and the goat, then he left with the truck to do some sort of errand while I went in my room to get to work on my original.

My inspiration was what happened to my parents. I don't know what happened, but I now know that I am stronger because of it. And I will forever be stronger.

"Every tear that had to fall from my eyes... Every day I wondered how I'd get through the night.. From everything life has thrown me.. I'm grateful for every break in my heart-"

"We're home!"

And there goes that track.


End file.
